


Fuck You Jamie

by CosmoKid



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 147 uses of fuck, F/F, Female Jim Moriarty, Female Sebastian, I don't know if it counts as graphic but the tags there anyway, Pre and Post Reichenbach, female mormor, like loads, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7923601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck you Jamie. Fuck you for making me falling in love with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fuck You Jamie

**Author's Note:**

> There's a whole lot of swearing in this, do I need to put a warning for it?

_Fuck you Jamie_ repeats in Severin’s mind as she talks with the douchebag from Janus Cars. She knows, she fucking knows that Sev hates the guy with a passion. She’d love to slit his throat and watch as he gurgles and struggles for life. Or maybe she’d shoot him the abdomen with a shotgun and watch as he writhes around in pain as the life drains out of him like water down a drain. Or perhaps she’d inject a large dose of hydrogen peroxide into his veins and watch as his blood slowly dissolves and his veins and arteries burst. 

She entertains the thought as he speaks, his ideas getting more and more idiotic by the word. Thinking of relocating the guy to Scotland? Why the fuck would you relocate the guy who is meant to be dead to the same country he ‘died’ in? And he’s getting handsy. He always does. He has no respect for Sev since Jamie insists she plays the little mouse as she talks to him, persisting that it can’t be that disgusting. It is. He ‘accidentally’ hits her butt and then smirks at her and winks. She’d love to ‘accidentally’ shoot him. 

But she gets through it without shooting anyone knowing how furious Jamie would be if Severin fucked up her game with Sherlock. Her stupid, fucking game.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie,_ she thinks as she puts away her rifle at the signal. She was just itching to kill that goddamn consulting detective and his pet doctor. What the fuck was a consulting detective anyway? He just made up a job title and the police just went with it because what else would they do? Severin didn’t really know why it made her so angry. 

Maybe it was because Holmes had been given so many opportunities, he was smart, he was rich and he had power and he decided to become a knock off policeman. What a joke.  
Severin hadn’t gotten any of that. Sure she was athletic and wasn’t stupid, but she couldn’t do anything with it. She went to a shitty school, came from a shitty family and had a shitty upbringing. She joined the army as soon as she could knowing she had no other opportunity and learnt to be an effective killing machine. She left the army with a shitty pension and was basically blackmailed by Jamie to join her criminal empire, not that she was complaining; she enjoyed having all of her fingers.

Still, she was angry. She had been forced to tail the dim-witted duo for days as they played Jamie’s meticulous game with a promise of getting to kill at least one of them. It had been so damn frustrating just for Jamie to call it all off with a sadistic laugh. She knew the threat of shoe manufacturing was also aimed towards her in case she decided to shoot one of them. She nearly did. The swimming pool staff probably wouldn’t be happy with the bullet hole where John Watson used to be. She couldn’t bring herself to give a fuck.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she screams when she finds her girlfriend dead. Well, she doesn’t scream it immediately, she more or less sighs first. She knew the relationship wasn’t going to last, but she’d grown to care about her and she didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. She’s the nearest to tears she’s been in years when she notices the red acrylic nail in her throat and the letter J with a kiss carved into her skin.

Then she screams. And punches the wall and kicks and a table over and curses Jamie to hell and back. She had the mouth of her sailor and she’d never used more colourful vocabulary than on that fucking day. She was even angrier when Jamie gave her the explanation that was more of an excuse. She might have become a liability apparently. Sev would have just cut things off and never spoke to her before. For fucks sake, she hadn’t even used her real name. She was Teegan Lily in this life and Severin Moran in the next. Fuck off with the liability bullshit.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she almost growls as Jamie announces her newest idea. She has to fucking contour her fucking face before every fucking mission so she doesn’t fucking look like her fucking self. She fucking hates makeup. She can’t fucking stay still for ages so the make-up fucking artist can get it right. She fucking hates it when they go to fucking find what make-up she should be fucking using and she’s told that she has the most fucking calloused skin the lady has ever fucking seen. Fuck it all.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ is the only thought she has as the police surround her. Fuck.

It’s quite hard to convince people you’re innocent when they catch you red-handed literally. Particularly when you’re in the act of slitting someone’s throat with your hands covered in blood. It’s even more difficult when there’s CCTV evidence of it. Not to mention the DNA and fingerprints. 

The only thing she really has to help her is the tonnes of makeup on her face and the contacts that make her eyes itch. She wants to scream fuck you Jamie since her stupid fucking plan seems to be actually working. She could have a normal fucking life with a boring desk job and a family she might grow to care about and instead she’s riding in the back of a cop car with an unnecessary bullet in her shoulder. Fuck.

She’s almost relieved when the police start dropping dead like dominoes around her. Almost. Jamie comes waltzing in a minute later with a shit-eating grin on her face commenting about how Sev should know better than to be caught. She could kill her right fucking there.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she growls out loud when she tries to load her rifle with these stupid fucking nails. Jamie had decided that she should learn how to slit throats with acrylic nails as a different way to murder people. Fuck that. She’d murdered people with spoons, bandages, wallpaper and even a ukulele once. She once fucking murdered a tiger with her own bare hands for fuck’s sake.

Despite all of her progress, it happens. Against her will, as expected. Of course, Jamie would fill her air conditioning with some kind of gas that would knock her out for twenty-four hours and put the fake nails on her while she was unconscious. And of course, they’d have a tiger print on it because how perfect. Fuck off with that. She’d lost twenty-four fucking hours of her life and then had to deal with these stupid fucking nails. 

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she carves into the body with her nails. It seemed almost sentimental. It was definitely going to confuse whoever the fuck found the body anyway. The guy was called Zack or Brock or some other jock name and he had been the cockiest murder victim she’d ever dealt with. He’d made sexual comments about her tits as she ripped off his fingernails one by one because why the fuck not? He’d even had the balls to ask if she needed a real man to fuck her as she began to slice off his toes. He didn’t have balls soon after that. It was rather disgusting what she’d done, probably her most creative kill. She had sharp stilettos that you can probably imagine what she’d used them for.

She was meant to just get the information out of him not mutilate his body, but he’d given it up so easily and he was so damn infuriating. Jamie had given her so many torture devices as well. It wasn’t even the most she’d fucked up a human body, but whoever found him was in for a shock. The nails were still annoying as fuck though. Try dumping a body in the river with your nails catching on everything. Very fucking annoying.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she thinks as she’s forced to throw a fucking boomerang in hopes to kill someone. A fucking boomerang. Where the fuck did she even get a boomerang from and why does she have one? Who kills people with a boomerang? She could get it done much quicker and cleaner with her rifle, but instead she spends hours trying to work how the hell you throw a boomerang accurately. She almost knocks herself out with her first attempt.

So she throws the stupid boomerang and kills the stupid fucking guy and gets to watch John Watson skype Sherlock at the crime scene. He’s fucking skyping him. Jamie thought it would be a hilarious case for Sherlock to solve except for the part where he solves it in seconds and the interruption from Sherlock’s stupid brother. Apparently, they went to Fuckingham Palace. Fuck this. 

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ is the main thought she has as she speaks to Irene Adler. Adler was exactly the kind of woman that Severin would like to fuck senseless or be fucked senseless by. She wanted so bad to go into the bathrooms and fuck for hours on end so she can go get the information about Sherlock that she’s withholding from Jamie. It’d be easier, much more fun and probably quicker. She needed a good lay anyway.

But she can’t, the idea is just fucking disgusting to her and she doesn’t fucking know why. She makes idle chatter with Adler while trying to understand her sudden inability to want to fuck a hot chick. She finally gets it after her third drink when her mind is laced with Jamie. Of course, it finally happened. Of fucking course. Fuck you Jamie and your great fucking tits.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she mutters under her breath as she steps off the plane in Karachi disguised as a man. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry about how easy it was to hide her tits even if the catty lady who had helped had made numerous references to it. It makes both of their jobs easier. She was angry when she had to spend hours being made over so she looks like she’s actually a guy since she’s being sent into a sexist, erratic war zone that probably wouldn’t have as much chaos if women were in charge. 

Tailing Sherlock Holmes was basically her job at this point and god damn did she hate it. She gets to watch Sherlock Holmes play the knight in shining armour and watch Adler’s clear love for the moron. She didn’t care if Sherlock was one of the smartest men on the planet, he was stupidly ignorant and had the easiest weaknesses to see if you just looked hard enough. Fuck him and fuck Jamie’s obsession with him. Still, she tails them to a shitty hotel where he drops Adler off and goes back to his boyfriend in England. 

Severin waits for Irene to message her the word before arriving at the hotel under the alias of some kind of business conference nearby. This had to be the most stupid fucking thing she’d ever done. She fucking hates it all. She hates having to escort Adler out to a nearby restaurant pretending to be a man. She hates the food here and the weather is unbelievably shitty and if she gets jumped by one more idiot with a gun, she will actually murder someone rather than chopping off their right hand.

She hates Jamie the most when Irene replies to her threat about not changing sides because of her clear attraction to Sherlock, “Our situations aren’t that different Severin. The only difference is that I’m not willing to blindly follow someone I love and risk my life for them.” Fuck you Jamie. 

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she almost screams out loud in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere. Why the fuck does she have to tail Sherlock to the countryside so he can solve a stupid drug case with magical hounds apparently. There’s no internet, no service and no one to fucking murder. She hates it. She fucking hates it here.

When Jamie sends her a letter by carrier pigeon (probably to spite her and all of her complaints), she almost sends it back with a fuck you note attached. Especially when she reads the letter. She’s meant to flirt with Greg Lestrade to try to get information about Sherlock. She’s really tempted to send a fuck you to Jamie when she gets rejected by him since it turns out the unassuming inspector is gay. Great, just fucking great. She has no internet, no service, no one to murder and not enough alcohol to drown down the hatred she harbours. How fucking great.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ is how she expresses admiration for her. Sev wasn’t meant to fall in love with her. You’re not meant to fall in love with your boss. You’re not meant to fall in love with someone of your own gender if you ask some people. You’re not meant to fall in love with serial killers and psychopaths either. Severin managed to do all three of them. Fuck.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she thinks as she stitches up another bullet wound in her shoulder. She has enough bullet scars to last a lifetime, but hey, what’s one more? Fuck. Jamie just had to go and get herself kidnapped by Mycroft Holmes of all fucking people. Severin didn’t even know where Jamie fucking was for weeks on end until she gets an order through the grapevine to come and fucking save her.

Answering the door at midnight to some random lady whose eyes were glued to her phone is just fucking peachy. She introduces herself as Anthea and tells her that Mycroft Holmes has Jamie and that she should really think about saving her before proceeding to just leave. Severin nearly punched a hole through her wall. For fucks sake Jamie. For fucks sake.

So she heads out having no idea on where the fuck to go and what the fuck to do. It turned out that Jamie had decided to leave clues all around the city for Sev to find. How the fuck she had managed that was beyond Severin and she really couldn’t care less at that point. So she played her stupid fucking game and saved her, getting shot in the shoulder in the process. And fuck did that hurt.

 

 _Fuck you Jamie_ she almost says to her face when Jamie confiscates one of her guns. Her guns are her fucking property and Jamie fucking knows it. She knows that touching Severin’s guns is like murdering her child yet she takes one right out of her fucking hand. Apparently, she needs it for protection against Sherlock on the rooftop. Well, fuck it. She could take a gun from anyone else under her rule. No one touches Sev’s guns.

It doesn’t help that it happens to be Severin’s most cherished gun. It’s even more important than her rifle and her rifle is like her first born kid. She knew exactly why Jamie took that fucking gun. It was the only present Jamie had ever given to Sev. It was the nicest that Sev had ever seen Jamie so she should have seen this coming honestly. Of course, it would turn bittersweet.

She almost throws Jamie against the wall as Jamie pecks her on the lips, promising that she’ll get it back as well as another present for her loyalty. Jamie fucking knew, she fucking knew that Sev was in love with her. She’d never exploited it before. Sev was rather proud of her self-control in that moment because she wanted to fuck Jamie and murder Jamie at that moment and actually did neither. Instead, she’d scowled and left the room with a threat of killing someone if the gun gets damaged. Fuck Jamie Moriarty very much.

 

_Fuck you Jamie. Fuck you so much. I hate you so much. Fuck you and your stupid plan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t fair. You weren’t meant to fuck die on that stupid fucking rooftop. Sherlock is meant to be the dead one. Fuck you. I had to deal with your stupid dead body. That’s not my fucking job. And of fucking course, you used my gun for it. Make it sentimental, ay? What was the other present? Your dead body? Well fuck you, I’m done. I’m done with it all. Keep the fucking gun. I’m done with every tie I have to you. I hate you so fucking much. I hate that I fucking love you and the fact that I cried at your fucking death. Fuck you Jamie._


	2. Fuck Off Jamie

She’s in a shitty café when it happens, finally having enough money from her shitty job to eat a meal out. She could probably do it more if she didn’t spend most of her money on alcohol. They’re playing repeats of old football games while a group of nearly drunk men yell at the screen to kick the ball better before it cuts off all of a sudden. Then it’s Jamie’s face and Severin suddenly can’t think straight. She stares at the screen for a while in shock as she tries to process it.

“Fuck you Jamie,” she mutters angrily when she can finally gather her thoughts. Of course, Jamie is fucking alive, of fucking course. She stands up abruptly, ignoring the offended gasp from the waitress who was about to take her order. She’s out of the café in an instant and just starts walking. She’s not sure where she’s going, but she’s going. 

She arrives at her flat with no memory of how she got there. She doesn’t particularly care anyway. She just wants to sleep first and deal with Jamie tomorrow. Maybe Jamie doesn’t even care about her. She didn’t care enough to notify Sev that she was fucking alive. It’s not like she was tied to Jamie anyway, she’d cut all of those years ago. She’d sold almost all of her guns and just disappeared. 

She was now working as a secretary under the name of Meredith Huntley. She’d tried and failed relationships. Nothing worked. All she could think of was Jamie when they were kissing her. The idea of settling down disgusted her as it was, but settling down with anyone other than Jamie nearly made her throw up. So she opted for drunken hook ups when she could hardly focus on anything. It was better that way. 

Staggering slightly, she entered her flat to see all of her lights off, but one. That was odd. She hardly ever had her lights on anyway; her bills skyrocketed if she wanted them on. And the lamp that was on, well she’d never once had it on. The only reason she even had it was so she could hide one of her guns. 

She saw it as she let her eyes focus to the darkness. The silhouette. She recognised it immediately. Of course, she’d be here just staring out of Sev’s shitty windows.  
“Disgusting place you’ve got here Tiger.” Jamie turned around, her eyes immediately zoning in on Sev. She stalked forward like a mountain lion towards its prey, her heels making up for her lost height. Her red lips were twisted in a grim smile and her eyes were much darker than before.

“It represents my inner turmoil,” she snarls, less sarcastically than she hoped for. She comes across as desperate, like a kicked puppy. She doesn’t even fucking care anymore. So what if she’s desperate? At least she didn’t fake her death for some doting detective who is hardly worth a minute of consideration.

“You’ve gotten much more poetic than last time I saw you,” Jamie comments off-handedly, her head tilting slightly as she stares at Sev. It feels like she’s looking at her like she’s a broken toy that she’ll soon get bored of.

“There’s only so many ways you can politely say fuck you,” Sev states monotonously, “I had to get creative,” she adds, her lips still in a straight line. She doesn’t want to show any more emotion to Jamie, she doesn’t fucking deserve Sev’s tears. She doesn’t fucking deserve anything from Sev, she should just kick her out right now.

“When has my tiger ever needed to be polite?” Jamie’s voice is curious as if she hadn’t known anything about Severin. She can know anything about anyone, she knows about Severin’s new life. Her face is twisted into what looks like a frown and she reaches out to stroke Sev’s face who steps back immediately. She doesn’t even care how offended Jamie looks. Fuck her.

“Secretaries have to be polite, it’s in the job description,” Sev grimaces, her eyes burning into Jamie’s face which twists up as if shes’s perplexed, “Oh don’t pretend that you didn’t fucking know. I know you and how you fucking work Moriarty!” she snaps hotly, the rage burning inside of her. God damn did she want to punch her and god damn did she want to kiss her.

“What happened to you, Severin?” Jamie sounds near tears as she reaches out to stroke Severin’s face again. So she does have a heart after all. Severin goes to step back and away from her, but Jamie’s hand is at her waist stopping her. Severin has no doubt that she’d be able to escape her grip, but she just can’t bring herself to.  
“Fuck you Jamie Moriarty, you know exactly what happened to me you bitch!” Severin spits, wrenching herself out Jamie’s grip and backing up into the wall, hardly containing the urge to slap her.

“Tut tut darling, you don’t want to make me angry.” Jamie’s voice changes into a warning tone as her eyes turn predatory. She begins stalking slowly towards Severin, taking a deep breath as she does so, “Just because you’re the only person who can make me lose control doesn’t mean you should make it happen Tiger,” she growls lowly, her eyes burning straight through Severin. If looks could kill, Severin would probably be able to fake her own death and not fucking tell Jamie for years. Fuck her.

“You lost control with Sherlock at the pool that night,” Severin reminds her in a vindictive manner, “Don’t lie to me Moriarty, I watched you lose your control. You’re not nearly as perfect as you say you are.” She knows it’s going to make Jamie even angrier, but she doesn’t fuck care. Manipulating Jamie is so much fucking fun, especially since she wants revenge for what Jamie’s put her through for the last few years. 

“I never lost control with Sherlock,” Jamie huffs still advancing on Sev, sounding more like she’s trying to convince herself more than trying to convince Severin, “He’s not special like you Tiger,” she mumbles once she’s reached Severin, the tears visible in her eyes. She’d never seen Jamie like this, she looks tired and sad, but there’s life in her eyes. Severin had never really seen life in her eyes.

“Not special enough to mention that you were alive for the past few years,” Severin jeered, unable to bring herself to meet Jamie’s eyes. She’s not crying again, not over Jamie. She’s cried enough about her.

“Do you think I wanted to keep it away from you? Really?” Jamie asks furiously, pushing Sev against the wall with her manicured nails, “Fuck Sev, do you think I enjoyed watching you fall to pieces and drink yourself away? Do you? I wanted to step in so fucking much Sev, tell you that I was alive, but you wouldn’t be here if I did. Anyone I spoke to ended up dead the next day, I couldn’t let it happen to you. And fuck Sev, it looked like you were getting yourself a good life for a while there, you had a decent job and a stable relationship. I didn’t want to fucking ruin that for you.” Jamie takes a deep breath, a few tears falling from her eyes. God, Sev has never seen her like this before.

“I did a good enough job of that myself,” Sev muses, a smile playing at her lips as she thinks about how fucked up she is. She’s kidding herself that she can live an ordinary life, for fucks sake she can’t function without death. She knows she can’t. Whether that was her time spent in the army or just her being fucked up she doesn’t know, but it doesn’t really matter now.

“It’s not your fault that ordinary people lead such boring lives Tiger,” Jamie reminds her with a high pitched giggle, “So what do you say? Wanna go fuck up some shit?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I apologise if this was really bad.
> 
>  
> 
> come scream with me on [tumblr](https://island-of-asteria.tumblr.com/)


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